


Open Palms

by worldturtling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Purgatory, graveyard sex (implied), shower comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldturtling/pseuds/worldturtling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fix-it fic, Dean calls in a favor to get Benny out of purgatory again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Palms

“Look, Benny. I got  a signed warrant for your arrest.”

Benny takes in the head of the vamp that had almost taken a piece out of his neck five feet away, the boot flat on his chest, a familiar black stone weapon at the ground, and finally, the blood caked face that was cracking a white smile at him full of teeth that weren’t exactly pointed, but definitely angled inward in only one person he’d ever seen.

“Dean?” his voice slipped in disbelief. “Are you-“ had Dean been turned by something?

“Reaper friend got me in with the promise that I’d get out by myself. And I’m taking you with.” Benny frowned, and paused.

“Well no offence, but I ain’t going nowhere with a one-sixty pound weight on my chest.”

Dean flushed above him and began to scramble off, and Benny remembered how to feel something that wasn’t wary and tense suspicion at the sight.  He slowly got up and dusted himself off.

“So what are the chances that every one of your good old friends you sent here on your revenge mission are now out for your head?”

“Very likely,” Benny said, picking his hat up from a few feet away next to the carcass of another ‘old friend’.

He turned to face Dean, an arm’s length away always. When they were in purgatory before, Dean always checked to make sure he could reach Benny; they were never that far apart. Old habits died hard.

They don’t know who starts it, if they both move in simultaneously or if their bodies just know the movements by themselves now, but Dean’s face is pressing into his shoulder, and Benny can smell the blood and guts of other creatures in his friend’s hair, along with the smell of the leather from his car, and the sweat and mud and dirt that is all purgatory.

“How long you been here for, man?” Benny says into the curve of his head, squeezing his arms tighter around his back, and Dean presses himself closer. He feels warm.

“A few hours,” he says into Benny’s cheek, then turns and his ear is brushing his beard as Dean’s face lands in his coat shoulder. Benny would cringe at how dirty he is but Dean’s got about five times the amount of blood on him. Benny is shorter than him by an inch or two, but broader by a mile despite Dean’s stout frame and Benny holds like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.

“You’re coming with, right?” Dean asks in a rough voice when they separate, while Dean is still lingering so close to him. Dean isn’t looking at him, but at the forest floor.

 If he protested, Dean might try to argue. But Dean was here, when Benny hadn’t come back with Sam. When Benny had already chosen to stay. Telling Dean no now would be confirming that he had left on purpose, and Dean would see it as leaving him, as a betrayal. Benny had turned into yet another one of Dean’s friends that left him, and while he was honored to be considered as so much by Dean, that reality shook him and he felt guilt deep in his stomach.

“God, Dean.” His voice  swayed under everything Dean Winchester’s resolve had done until thus now. He didn’t belong to himself, his body was over Dean’s weight, under Dean’s creation. Dean wanted him to be worthy of something he didn’t know if he could handle.

“I won’t make you leave, I promise. I’ll do better.” Benny closed his eyes, and shook his head. He placed a hand on Dean’s arm, and swallowed.

“Dean, this ain’t your fault brother. I’m coming back with you.”

~

They’re walking towards the portal, killing a few things here and there. They swing back into their old rhythm easily and familiarly that Benny gets nostalgic for it.   They aren’t around for a few hours when they finally get there and stop at the summit.

“Dean,” he waited for Dean to look at him, “what did your brother tell you when he got back?”

 “It doesn’t matter what he said, I buried your bones because I knew you’d come back.”

Everything should crumble under that resolve. Purgatory itself did.

Without another word, Dean started rolling his sleeves back, and Benny did the same. He cut into a clear patch of skin, and Benny cut into his own, keeping an eye on Dean’s red wound.

He meets Dean’s eyes, thinks he sees the universe in them, and then their hands are clasped on each other’s arms and Dean is absorbing everything he is. He knows nothing but a heartbeat.

-

He knows his familiar cold form in the frigid night air less than two hours later. Dean is looking out from the makeshift grave in Maine, sweat and blood all over his face still. Benny is dressed like new, body as freshly dead as the day he was made.

Dean attacks him, his tongue desperate in Benny’s mouth in a way Benny is sure is a little reckless. But Dean kisses him with abandon until Benny learns to get on board and throw his coat off on the ground, where they inevitably fall, with Dean between his knees and shifting his hips in all sorts of illegal ways.

Benny’s hand travels down around Dean’s back pocket, and feels the outline of a condom and lubricant.

Dean is filthy and raw and Benny is fresh and hungry. His tongue laves flat against Dean’s cheek and drags the blood of the slain off of Dean’s face. Dean finds his hand.

-

“You’re alive.” Is the first thing Dean’s brother says with gaping confusion, before realizing his fumble, and tries to correct himself, “I mean dead…again. Here.” His jaw clenches and his eyes shift.

“Told you I could get him out.” Dean says smugly, striding into the bunker Benny had never seen before.  He looks around and notes some of the cobwebs in the arches.

“But how is he…” Sam halts, looks at Benny, to the side, then at Dean and says in a hushed voice, “in here.”

“I’m a supernatural creature Sam. Inside voices don’t work,” he throws out, strolling further into the main room to get a whiff of the old books. That was a nice smell.

“I don’t know, Sam, it just worked.” 

“You.. you wanted to stay.” Benny turns to Sam, who is shaking like Benny’s a ghost pulling a trick of the light on him. “You wouldn’t go in,” he turned to Dean and half pleaded, “he wouldn’t go in my arm, Dean!”

 “Don’t know where the likes of you have been, no offence. Also wasn’t too keen on being trapped with that crotchety old skunk.”

Dean made a face at him and Benny smiled, tipping his hat. “Sorry Darlin’, but your old friend smelled something fierce.”

“Well  _hell_  will do that to a person. It’s full of stinky dicks after all.”

“Glad that’s not a problem we have, then.” He drawled, then winked. It wiped the frown right off of Dean’s face and turned it red. Benny grinned. Dean’s little brother cleared his throat loudly.

“Dean, how are we going to feed him, we can’t keep him here.”

“I’ve got my own lunch box, short stuff. No need to throw a tantrum about me enterin your super secret pillow fort.”

And that was how Dean brought Benny’s cooler to the kitchen, showed him wear all the cups were stored, and plates in case Benny ever ate real people food, and pans when Benny asked because Dean mentioned once he liked gumbo.

He followed Dean into the shower, naked and all, with locked doors because Dean was concerned about interruption. But Dean took him by the hand and led him onto the wet tiles and made him to stand under the jet of hot water. He pressed his bare chest up against Benny’s wet curls, and Benny felt warm all over like he was under some kind of magic.

He wraps his arms around Benny’s waist, and holds on, his head lays down flat on his shoulder. Dean’s body shivers under his, and his instinct is to wrap around him in turn, so he does. Instead of Dean shying away from the cold, he exhales with relief, Benny’s hands shift and one is on the small of his back the other comes up to hold his head. The spray of water hits their backs, and they stay there in silence, until Dean starts breathing ad it’s all Benny can do to hold him and feel his heart beat against his chest.

He can’t see all the scars Dean has gained since they got back a year ago, and there’s a lot Dean hadn’t wanted to bother telling him. Benny understands because he does the same. He wants to pay Dean back for the favor of life, once asked, twice given. Dean feels broken, breathing carefully in his arms, even if he’s all knitted together and it scares Benny. Dean may be human, but he is far from fragile, and it terrifies him to think of how many things had broken him by now, and he’s still standing here. To let Benny of all things see the exposed back, the curve of his spine, the way his skin prickles around his ass and freckles dot his everything.

 If all he can do right now is be here, be the body Dean wants, Benny can do that.


End file.
